She let him get no further. "It's not Charley," she declared. "Matthews meant us to think it was Indians. Moccasins are easy to get."
"That's true." He frowned. "Hm!—Well, I shall inquire into his whereabouts during the last two days." And the captain fell to studying the figures on the Navajos.
Outside, Lieutenant Fraser was passing the shack. He rode on to the cornfield, where he flung himself off his horse.
"Marylyn! Marylyn!" he said tremblingly. "You poor girl! I'm so sorry—What can I say? It's my fault."
She lifted a scared face to his. "No, it's mine," she answered; "if I'd told Dallas about you, we'd never 'a' gone to Clark's——"
"Thank goodness you did! But if your father had known about me—if I could have come to the house. I must after this. We'll tell your sister about us now. Come on."
She shrank back in sudden fright. "No, no. Don't you see? She'd think it was awful I didn't say something yesterday!"
She looked down. "You don't know Dallas. She don't like soldiers any more'n pa. She said so, and she'd——"
"Oh, I think she does," he argued. "Now, let's try her—let's make a clean breast of it."